Baby and Winchester
by LadyLady1994
Summary: Okay, to all who read the original... I didn't like it, so I decided to rewrite it again. Thanks for your reviews though! Please review! Oh, and i know in the last chapter it says there will be another chapter... but there wont.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One **

She walked with grace, her head held high, and dark chocolate curls bouncing, as she twirled, her pink and white cheerleaders skirt lifting slightly. She carried her books and pompoms in her arms, and a pink sports bag hung from her right shoulder. Around her were a group of other cheerleaders, all giggling, and laughing, as the jocks passed them and waved. She leaned against the hood of her black 1967 Pontiac Beaumont convertible, Meatloaf, _Paradise by the dashboard light_, blaring from its speakers.

Her tight, pink crop top encased her breasts, with two white stripes crossing it, and long sleeves which were attached to loops around her middle finger. Her pink skirt went to mid thigh, and had several slits up it, two white stripes around the low rise waistband, and a had a white underskirt and pink hot-pants. She had legs that seemed to go on for miles, and wore white knee-high socks, and pink trainers. Her friends wore the same outfit, only some had pink socks and white trainers.

She had pouted, pink lips that looked like they were made for kissing, and pearly white teeth. Her eyes glowed with youth, and mischievousness, while her freckled nose and rosy cheeks made her a picture of innocence.

They all giggled, as she sang along with the music, doing a dance. She laughed as well, her giggle like bells, and popped open the trunk to the Beau. She threw her bag, pompoms and books in it, before closing it softly. Leaping into the tan interior of her Beau, she turned the key in the ignition, starting the engine to the car. The Beau rumbled into life, and she adjusted her rear-view mirror, so she could see behind her. The shoe shaped air freshener shook slightly. She pressed a button on her freshly installed CD layer, and the song switched to Bowling for Soup's _High School never ends. _

"Move it or lose it!" she yelled at her friends, who stuck their tongue's out, and moved out the way. She stuck her tongue out at them, before speeding out of the parking lot of her high school. The Beau roared down the highway, as she headed towards the motel she was staying at, to get ready for the night out she had planned with her friends at the local club.

Her speakers blared, a mix of classic rock, country songs, and pop music. She sang along, banging her hands on the leather coated wheel, grinning happily, her hair flying out behind her. As she pulled into the motel parking lot, she parked up next to a Chevy Impala, and nodded in admiration, before shutting of her engine, and leaping out of the car over her door.

She looked around, making sure no one was around, and reached under her drivers seat, and pulled out a semi-automatic revolver. She rushed to the boot, and popped it open, grabbing her sports bag, and shoving the revolver in it. Grabbing her pompoms and books, she walked into the motel reception area. "Hiya Robbie!" she said, grinning at the old man, who grinned back.

"Hiya Singer, you need your room key?" he asked, and she nodded, smiling politely at the man who used her last name instead of her first. He handed it to her, and looked at her seriously. "Singer, you know, living in a motel can't be good for you, you should move back home."

"Are ya saying ya don't want me around no more?" she asked, teasing in a Southern accent, and he grinned bashfully.

"Nah, little lady, it's been a pleasure having you here, but I'm sure ya gotta be missing home by now," he reasoned, and the eighteen year old girl shrugged. He raised his eyebrows, and she just chuckled, before waving goodbye, and going to her room. She walked past two men, who were arguing about something, but completely ignored them, going into her room.

She threw her stuff on her bed, rushed to her wardrobe, pulling out a pair of blue jeans, and a tight white top. She grabbed her black cowboy heels, and a thick black belt. Stripping herself of her cheer leading uniform, she turned on the shower, and got in washing her hair and scrubbing the sweat and dirt of her body.

She dried herself off, and blow dried her hair, before fluffing up her curls, and doing her make up. After applying her lip gloss, she pulled on her new outfit, and admired herself in the mirror. She put her revolver, a spare lip gloss and mascara, her purse, her mobile and her fake i.d in her hand bag, then grabbed her black leather jacket, and leaving the motel, giving her key to Robbie.

"Don't get to drunk, young lady," he warned, and she giggled, saying she would never. He nodded, laughing to himself, and she looked at him wierd, before calling a taxi on her mobile. About 15 minutes later she was inside the club, with her friends.

"Come on, Charissa, it's not like you have to worry about your dad ragging on ya if you get totally hammered!" her friend Melissa said, holding out the apple martini to her. Charissa looked at it, then at Melissa.

"I don't think -" she started, and Melissa growled.

"Drink it, don't think about it, besides, you need to loosen up, you don't have work tomorrow, remember..." she stated, and Charissa raised her eyebrows, but took the glass, and downed it in one. She handed it back to Melissa, who grinned, and ordered two more. Ginny giggled, and drank her vodka and coke.

After three more apple martini's, Charissa, Melissa and Ginny moved on to shooters. Charissa was only mildly tipsy, while Melissa was completely out of her face and Ginny was drunk. The door to the club opened, and the two men from the lobby of the motel walked in, and up to the table next to hers. Melissa looked at them, peering past Charissa, until she fell of her seat. Charissa laughed, as she stood back up clumsily.

"They are gods..." Melissa muttered, and Charissa raised her eyebrows, looking over her shoulder at them. She looked back at Melissa.

"They," she pointed over her shoulder, "are too old for us."

Melissa groaned, and pouted. Charissa giggled, and Ginny looked at them, before her jaw dropped, and she did the St. Trinians o-m-g moves. Charissa rolled her eyes at Ginny. Ginny looked at her, offended. "Oh come on! They are totally gorgeous! Are you telling me that if you had the chance, you wouldn't do them?" she asked, incredulous.

Charissa blushed, as everyone looked at their table, before going back to their dancing, drinking, or own business. She glared at Ginny. "Well, no... I'm not saying that, all I am saying is they are too-"

"Please! We're only young once! Go for it!" Melissa slurred drunkenly, handing Charissa a small glass filled with black liquid. Charissa looked at it, before she gulped it down, and slammed her glass on the table wincing and gagging.

"What was that!?" she hissed, fanning her mouth. Melissa giggled. Charissa got her mints from her bag, and popped two in her mouth.

"Whiskey, vodka, coke, dry gin, Bacardi, apple sours, martini and a splash of chocolate sauce," Ginny recited, looking at Charissa seriously. She ordered two more. "Here, take these to them, and see how they react."

Charissa looked at them, Melissa who was face down on the table, and Ginny who was looking deadly serious for a drunk person. She groaned, and downed the two drinks, before eating two mints, and ordering two more. She picked them up, and glared at Ginny, before going over to the men's table. "Hi," she said, placing the drinks on the table. They looked at her confused. "I'm doing a survey, to see who can drink these, and stay conscious. So far, I have managed three. Care to try and beat that?"

The men looked at each other, before the one in the leatherjacket shrugged, and grinned at her, before taking one of the glasses. The other one with long hair took one as well, looking into the glass speculatively. He looked at the other one, and watched him drink it. Furrowing his eyebrows, he drank it, and nearly threw up. Charissa peered over her shoulder, to see that Ginny and Melissa had vanished, and her table was cleaned up.

She glared at the table, before looking at the men. One was still gagging, downing his beer, while the other was calling him a sissy. She grinned, and turned to him. "Is this seat taken?" she asked, pointing to the chair beside her, and the man told her to sit. "Thanks, my friends have totally abandoned me."

"My name's Dean, Dean Winchester, and this is my brother, the girl, Sam," he stated, and she grinned. She shook his hand, and looked sympathetically at Sam.

"Sorry about that, Sam, my name's Charissa," she told them. "So, Dean, how many of those do you think you can stomach?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"More than you, sweetheart," he stated, and she laughed, before looking at him seriously. Clicking two fingers, the waiter bought over a tray full of them.

"Prove it," she said smirking, and Sam groaned, hitting his head on the table, before telling Dean he was leaving. Dean nodded in acknowledgment, and Sam left. Dean looked ather, as he downed the two she had before, to catch up, before they started their drinking match.

--

The next morning, Charissa shot up, her head feeling like there was an elephant dancing on it. She looked around, and realised she wasn't in her room. She panicked, and looked down, before crossing her arms over her bare chest. She looked to her right, and saw Dean sleeping, his back to her.

"Oh fuckety fuckety shit..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Oh fuck fuck shit..." Charissa muttered, before throwing the covers over Dean, and digging around for her clothes. She found her jeans, her t-shirt, one sock, her boots and her bra, but she really couldn't find her panties. She rummaged through the piles of papers, books and clothing, panicking. "I can't not wear panties..." she hissed, lifting up a jacket. Groaning, she looked up towards the ceiling, ready to tear her hair out, when the door opened.

She suddenly remembered she was stark naked, when Sam's eyes sought her out, and he turned red. He spluttered, before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Charissa decided it was best to risk not wearing panties, and pulled on her clothes, before grabbing her handbag, and opening the window. Casting a regretful look at Dean, she leaped out of it, and onto the fresh dewy grass under the window. She adjusted her clothes, and went around the front, to get her room key.

"Hiya Robbie," she says happily, a pearly grin on her face, and a small wave. Robbie looks up from his conversation with Sam. He smiles, and waves at her. She giggled, and leaned on the desk, holding out her hand. "Room key please," she asked, and the old man nodded, and handed her the key. Charissa nodded thankfully, and began to leave, when Robbie spoke to her.

"So where were you last night, Singer?" he asked. Charissa stopped and turned to face him, a big smile on her face. She crossed her fingers behind her back. He raised his eyebrows, his old eyes wise of her actions.

"Oh, I went back to Melissa's, it was great, we had a small sleepover and ate popcorn," she lied fluently, and well. Sam watched her in interest. Robbie nodded and looked at her. She hits her head, as she feigns remembering something. "Robbie, I forgot to tell you. My dad called, and I'm going home today, so I'll be checking out."

Robbie looked shocked, then elated, and then saddened. "I'll miss ya, kiddo." he said, coming out from behind reception, and going up to her. She nodded, and hugged him tightly, her eyes tearing up, before she pulled away. After stuttering something, she wiped her tears, and left, going to her room. Robbie went back to his post, and sipped his coffee.

"Who is that girl?" Sam asked, and Robbie looked at him.

"That was Charissa. She moved in here about six months ago, got a job, and a place in the local high school. She is nineteen in two weeks. Head cheerleader, and one of the purest girls I know," Robbie stated, somewhat saddened, while Sam was still reeling.

_NINETEEN!? S_am yelled inside his head. He excused himself, and marched to the girls room, knocking on the door loudly. After about three minutes of knocking, it opened to reveal Charissa in a pair of tight grey sweats, a pink crop top, and her hair in a ponytail. Now her make up was off, Sam could see just how young she looked. HE furrowed her brow, confused, as he marched past her and into the room.

"Please, come in," she stated, closing the door. "What do you want?" she asked, crossing the room to the wardrobe, and pulling out clothes, throwing them into a suitcase. She pulled posters off of the wall, and shredded them, throwing the pieces in the bin. Sam moved out her way, as she carried a bunch of bathroom supplies over to her sports bag.

"Why did yousleep with my brother?" he asked, and she looked at him for a moment, before going back to her packing. She bends down under her bed, and pulls out a cardboard box, lifting it onto the bed.

"I was drunk." she stated, lifting a dagger, and dropping it into her sports bag. She then tipped the box into the bag, an array of weapons falling into her pink bag. He looks at her.

"Who are you?" he asked, eyeing her weapons, and noticing the silver bullets, rock salts and exorcism books. She looked at him, as she zipped her bag up.

"I'm a hunter, I'm a witch, I'm a high school girl. Pick your favourite," she growled, doing up her suitcase. Sam leaned against her dressing table, crossing his arms. she threw her sports bag at him. He catches it, confused. "Help me get this stuff to my car," she asked, and he sighed, and nodded. She grinned happily, and lifted her two suitcase, wheeling them out of the room, and out of the motel, to her Beau. She popped the boot, and threw her suitcases in it, while Sam placed her pink bag in next to them.

She shut the boot carefully, wiping some mud off the boot lid, before smiling at her car. "My baby," she muttered, and Sam was instantly reminded of how Dean treated the Impala. she looked at him, grinning. "Say, when you go back in, can you give this envelope to Robbie?" she asked, holding out an envelope. He looked at it, and nodded. She turned to leave, before looking at him. "Oh, and tell your brother... I'm sorry, okay?" she asked hopefully, and he sighed, but nodded again. "Thank's," she said, before getting into the Beau and starting the engine.

Areosmith immediately blared from speakers. Sam gaped, as he watched her pull out of the lot, singing along to the music, banging her hands on the steering wheel. He smirked, and patted the envelope on his hand. "She's like a mini-Dean," he muttered, before going back into the motel.

Charissa drove down the highway, her mind set on getting as far from the motel as possible. She stopped singing, and sighed, before pressing harder on the gas pedal, and going faster. She grinned, when her ponytail began to whip about in the wind. She was free. Again. Then, her mobile rang, and the word Daddy - Bobby Singer flashed on the screen. She sighed, and flipped it open, pressing speaker phone. "Hiya daddy," she said, her tone worried.

Dean started the engine to the Impala, his expression furious, while Sam looked like he really wanted to run for his life. Sam was practically out of the window, and Dean tore out of the lot, and out of the town, his speed increasing. Sam looked at him. "Dude, where are we going?" he asked, holding onto the ceiling of the car for dear life.

"We're going to see Bobby, and find out what he knows about a nineteen year old hunter/witch named Charissa," he growled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"We're going to see Bobby, and find out what he knows about a nineteen year old hunter/witch named Charissa," he growled. Sam turned to his brother. Dean focused on the road ahead, his eyes alight with anger.

"Dean, I think there is something you should know..." Sam said slowly, and Dean grunted. Sam sighed. "The motel owner called her Singer."

Deans foot lifted from the gas, and slammed down on the brake. He breathed heavily. "What do you mean?" he asked, looking at Sam. Sam clicked his tongue for a minute, before looking at Dean seriously. Dean's knuckles were starting to turn white from his grip on the Impala's steering wheel.

"I mean... I think you slept Bobby's only child. Charissa Singer..." Sam explained, and Dean whacked his head of the steering wheel. Sam bit back a laugh, as his brother had a mini meltdown. Dean looked at him, and growled, before holding his head as a hangover began to take him over. He groaned, and leaned back in his seat. Sam laughed, while Dean winced.

"What sort of drink waits until you are awake to give you a hangover?" he moans, rubbing his temples. Sam hid a snicker behind his hand, and looked at Dean as serious as possible.

"Hey, bro, maybe you should let me drive?" he suggested, and Dean looked at him, as if he had just suggested they cut of his penis and eat it for dinner. He shook his head violently, and started the car, pulling out of the lay-by, and speeding back down the back roads, to Singer Salvage Yard, South Dakota.

--

Charissa sat on her old bed, sipping a cup of tea, as she looked at Bobby nervously. She had been home an hour, and he had already done the third degree father role. Now, he was telling her why she had been asked to come home. "Charissa, I... I never wanted us to fall out," he muttered, and she placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"Daddy, it was my fault. You have every right in the world to not want me to be a hunter, your my daddy," she replied, squeezing his arm. He looked at her seriously. She levelled her gaze to match his, and you could see just how alike the father and daughter were.

"Well, I am going to have to take that back," he said, and she looked confused. "Charissa, something... really bad... is coming, and we need everyone to fight it. That means, even you, as much as it pains me to admit it."

She looked at him, and hugs him. He wraps his arms around her, and hugged her as well. She felt tears running down her face, and sniffled. He chuckled, and pushed her away, so he could look at her face. He wiped away the tears from her slightly flushed cheeks. "I'm sorry, sweetie..." he sighed, and she smiled at him, weakly.

"It's okay daddy. I'm just tired, you know?" she said, and he laughed. She giggled shyly, before he stood. She looked confused, as he pulled back the covers. "Daddy...?"

"Well, come on, get in," he said gruffly, and she giggled from where she now stood. Bobby raised his eyebrows, and motioned for her to get it. She shook her head, and climbed into the bed, onto her side. He tucked the blanket around her, and between her legs, just like when she was little, and she looked up at him, lovingly.

"I love you, daddy," she yawned tiredly, her eyes closing, her left hand going under her cold pillow, and her right thumb going into her mouth. She curled up into a ball, and Bobby, smiled at her.

"I love you too, baby," he whispered, when she started to breath deeply, well and truly asleep. He pulled down the black blind that hung behind her pink curtains, and the room was shrouded in darkness. It was silent, the pink and white painted walls sound proofed. Everything in the room yelled pink, girlie-girl and frills. He shook his head, as he passed a pile of stuffed teddy bears, and kissed her forehead. She giggled in her sleep, and he sighed, before leaving the room, and quietly closing the door behind him.

He leaned his forehead against the door, and sighed deeply. "I love you too, baby..." he muttered, before going downstairs, to watch the footie. The minute he had his feet up, the doorbell rang. Growling, he stood, his beer in his hand, and marched to the front door. When he opened it, he groaned.

"Hey old man! That's no way to treat guests!" Dean joked loudly, lapping the older man on the back, and taking his beer. Bobby grimaced as Dean walked past, and right into the living room, yelling at the television immediately. Sam looked at Bobby.

"Sorry about this, Bobby, we need somewhere to stay for a while," he told the older hunter, and Bobby nodded, understanding.

"Fine, but whatever you do, don't eat the noodles in the kitchen, or go into Charissa's room. You can sleep on the pull-out, Charissa needs her bed now she is home," Bobby explained, and he watched as all the colour drained from Sam's face, before he smirked. The two walked through to the living room.

"So, Charissa is here?" Sam asked, dropping their bags in the living room, beside the pull out couch, and Dean looked up from the television. His eyes were wide, and he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Sam smirked at him. "Dude, you look terrified, you haven't done anything wrong, have you?" Sam asked, and Dean shook his head, his features going back to normal as he watched the television.

Bobby looked at him weird, before sitting down, and watching the footie again. Sam chuckled, and set up his laptop, and flipping John's journal open, to reread it again.

--

Charissa stretched, and yawned in her bed, before sitting up. Her room was dark, so she got up and lifted the black blind, to find it was dark outside, the moon glowing in the sky. She grinned at the moon, before leaving her room quietly. Tiptoeing downstairs, she passed the clock, and saw it was one in the morning. Sighing, she berated herself for going to sleep during the day.

She opened the door to the living room, her feet automatically taking her to the couch. She winced, when she stumped her toe on the pull out bed, and flicked the lamp on. Her eyes widened, and she fell back, when she came face to face with a groaning Dean. Out of habit, she clenched her fist, and sent it flying into his nose, causing him to fly back and hit Sam.

"Oh shit! what are you doing here!?" she hissed, looking at him angrily, as she closed the living room door. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, as blood started to dribble from it. Her eyes widened, and she pulled a handkerchief from her back pocket, holding it to his nose. Sam groaned and sat up, before looking at a bleeding Dean, and a flushed Charissa. He rolled his eyes, and lay back down, sleeping. Charissa huffed, and looked at Dean.

"So, why did you punch me again?" Dean asked, as he drank the coffee she handed to him. She sipped her orange juice, and shrugged.

"It was instinct. I didn't expect anyone to be on the couch, so I automatically hit you," she explained, sitting on the seat beside his around the table. "Sorry," she said, and he grunted. "For last night, as well."

He looked at her. She looked back, and the moment her eyes met his, she shivered, a sudden tingle running all through her body. She stuttered, and took a gulp of her orange juice. Dean looked away, suddenly feeling very jittery. The air was suddenly thick between them, as she noticed he didn't have a top on, and he noticed she was wearing skin-tight leggings, and an over sized t-shirt with ACDC written across it. It fell of one of her shoulders.

"So er..." she started, but her mouth had gone dry. He nodded slowly, looking at her. She looked at him, and felt another tingle, and a sudden need for him. She stood rabidly, and looked at him. "You don't tell daddy, and neither will I," she stated, and watched him nod, before running from the room. Dean watched her leave, and banged his head of the table.

"I am so screwed..."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It had been two months since the Winchesters, and Charissa, had arrived at the Singer Salvage Yard. Charissa had gotten ill, and was now constantly throwing up, eating, drinking apple juice and tea, going to the toilet and sleeping. Sam had been looking after her for the one and half months she had been ill, while Dean had been avoiding her at all costs.

The two refused to be in the same room as each other, for fear that the underlying attraction to each other may rise up again, and in front of Bobby. Bobby was disturbed by their lack of communication, yet just shrugged it off, helping Sam take care of Charissa.

"I want Dean!" Charissa pouted, her arms crossed, as she sat on her bed. She kicked her feet like a child, and banged her fists. "Get me Dean!" she yelled, glaring daggers at Sam and Bobby. Sam looked at Bobby, who nodded fearfully, and ran to get Dean, who was doing some work on the Impala. Sam looked at her, as she stared at the door stubbornly. He sat down on her bed, and took her hand.

"Charissa, how are you feeling?" he asked, and she looked at him, her eyes suddenly filled with tears. His eyes widened, when she threw her arms around his waist, sobbing quietly. The door to the room opened slowly, and Dean walked in, covered in grease and oil. Sam looked at him, and Dean walked forward, unwrapping Charissa's arms from Sam's waist. She looked up at him, for a moment, her eyes watery, before latching her arms around his waist. She rubbed her nose on his oily t-shirt, sobbing.

Dean looked at Sam, who nodded, and left, closing the door behind him. Charissa suddenly pulled back from Dean, and kissed him hard on the lips. Dean was stunned for a moment, before he pulled her closer towards him, and kissed her back. He lowered her to the bed, his mouth never leaving hers. She pushes him away quickly, before they go any further. He looked confused, as she held him away from her, gripping his t-shirt. Her eyes were tearing again. "I'm so sorry..." she began to whimper, and his brow furrowed.

"Why?" he asked, and she bit her lip, before squeezing her eyes shut. She turned her head to the side, and quietly mumbled, before looking back at him.

"I... I'm pregnant," she stated. He froze above her, and she waved a hand in front of his face. He was completely motionless for about five minutes, before her climbed off of her and sat at the end of the bed, his head in his hands. She sighed and sat up as well, looking at him.

"Are... are you sure?" he asked, turning to face her, and she nodded.

"I've missed my last two periods, I've got morning sickness and weird cravings, and the hormonal mood swings. If I'm not pregnant, than a fellow witch is casting a big one on me," she tried to joke, and he chuckled slightly. She grinned at him.

"So... does Sam know?" Dean asked, and Charissa nodded, remembering how helpful he was. Dean nodded for a moment. "And, this is just a wild guess, but seen as my insides aren't all over the yard, and my testicles and penis are in fact intact, Bobby doesn't know, right?"

Charissa giggled, and hit him on the arm. "No, daddy does not know. Yet," she added, when she saw the look on Dean's face. Deans face dropped. "Don't worry, if we wait until there is nothing he can do about it, we'll be fine. Also, if we leave right after he finds out..." she trailed off, looking into the stuffed teddies at the side of her room. "It's going to be alright, right?"

Dean looked at her seriously, and she looked at him with hopeful eyes. "... Of course it will be."

And they both knew, he was lying.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Three**

It was getting harder to hide Charissa's pregnancy, due to the bump on her stomach. She had lied to Bobby, and told him she was just putting on a bit of weight, which he had reluctantly believed, before Dean had intervened. Sam had taken her to her first scan, while Dean stayed behind to keep Bobby busy.

This had pretty much pissed Dean off royally, and when Bobby had gone out, he had blown up. Charissa had kicked him in the shin, and forced him into submission. Then, she had cried, and locked herself in the bathroom for three hours. They had eventually convinced her to come out, just as Bobby had come into the house.

Bobby pulled Sam away from Charissa, and looked at him seriously as they left the house. Sam looked at him, nervous. "Err, Bobby, what's goi-"

"Is Charissa pregnant?" Bobby asked, and Sam stuttered. Bobby looked at him seriously, and Sam took a step back, before sighing and nodding. "I see. Do you know you the father is, Sam?"

Sam looked like a deer caught in the headlights, as he tried to shuffle back into the house.

"Sam, who is it?" Bobby ordered.

"Dean!" Sam blurted out, before covering his mouth. Bobby looked furious, before he calmed down and went inside the house.

--

Charissa shot up in her bed, Dean beside her, as she felt a chill run through her body. She looked at Dean. "Something bad is happening," she stated, just as the bedroom door was torn of its hinges, and her father walked in, holding a shot gun loaded with rock salts.

"You have three second, to get away from my daughter, before I kill you," Bobby said menacingly, and Dean shot up, falling away from Charissa. Charissa looked at Bobby.

"Daddy! What are you doing! Leave Dean alone!" she yelled, and he turned to her.

"When were you going to tell me about the baby?" he asked, and Charissa blushed.

"Er... soon?" she giggled nervously, before hiding Dean behind her. Dean looked over his shoulder.

"It was an accident! I swear! Bobby! I didn't mean to!" Dean called out, and Charissa elbowed him in the stomach and told him to shut up. Bobby growled menacingly.

"You have three seconds, boy, and if your still on my property, I will kill you," Bobby growled, and Dean went to make a run for it. Charissa grabbed his arm, and pulled him back, glowering at her father.

"Robert Singer! Dean and I are perfectly happy! We can not help that I am pregnant, but we are making the best of it. And Daddy, So help me god, if you harm a single hair on this GOD of a man, I will personnaly hunt you down and tear you limb from limb," Charissa threatened him, her eyes on fire.

Bobby whimpered out a but, and she growled at him. Nodding furiously, he turned and ran past Sam. He grabbed Sam's arm. "I wouldn't go in there, she is worse then her mother was when she was pregnant!"

The he ran. Sam furrowed his eyebrows, and went into Charissa's bedroom. "Hey guys," he said nonchalantaly. They went hey.

Dean told him what had just happened, while Sam sunk into Charissa's bed, twiddling his thumbs and looking guilty.

"Sam, you told him, didn't you?" Charissa asked, and Sam looked at her, and said yes. HEr face shadowed dangerously, and she said one word.

"Run."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Four**

"Boy," Dean stated, holding up a blue baby grow. Six month's pregnant, Charissa stared back moodily, and held up a pink baby grow.

"Girl," she seethed, and Sam chuckled from where he watched.

They had been arguing about this for the last twenty minutes, yet Sam was still finding it amusing that Dean thought he would actually win against Charissa. The nineteen year old woman was impressively stubborn. He looked to his right, at the moses basket's and at a pregnant twenty three year old woman. She smiled at him, straight blond hair brushing her shoulders, blue eyes sparkling.

"Here with your wife?" she asked, and Sam chuckled, and shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes.

"No, with my brother and his girlfriend. Their having a baby in 3 months," he stated, and she nodded in acknowledgment. "She's a bit on edge lately, and they still don't know the sex of the baby."

"Oh, I know how that feels, I'm Jennifer," she says, holding out her hand to shake, and he accepts it, telling her his name. She grins at him, and he motions to her bump.

"How far along are you?" he asks, and she pats the large bump.

"Seven and a half months," she said proudly. "I'm having a girl."

"Oh, that's nice. Where's her father?" Sam asked. Jennifer looked at the ground, sadly.

"He died in a car accident four months ago," she sighed, and Sam looked at her, apologetically. She waves it off. "It's okay though, I have got to get on with my life, right? Got my little one to look after now."

Sam noticed her tone was cheery, almost to cheery. Then, a loud crash was heard, and he turned to see Charissa beating the hell out of Dean with a baby grow, her eyes flashing angrily. Sam looked at Jennifer, and she giggled. "I'm guessing that's your brother and his girlfriend, right?" she asked, laughing, and Sam blushes, nodding. "Well, they look happy together..."

Sam laughed, and looked at Charissa and Dean. Charissa was now crying, apologising to Dean, and cooing at him like a baby. Dean was trying to stop her, looking around at all the woman who were eyeing him evilly, and the men who were looking at him in understanding. Dean wrapped his arms around Charissa who looked at him in shock, before hugging him back.

Jennifer went aww, before looking at Sam, one hand on her back and the other on her bump. SHe saw the adoration in Sam's eyes, and looked from him to Charissa, sadly. "You love her, don't you?" she asked, and Sam looked at her, shocked. He protests, but she looked at him seriously. "Don't lie to me, I can see it in the way you look at her."

Sam bowed his head, and chuckled humourlessly. "Is it really that obvious?" he asked, looking at her. She grins and nodded. HE smiles at her, and watches Charissa and Dean leave the baby shop, heading to the Doctors for her appointment.

"Do you wanna go and get a milkshake?" she asked, and he looked at her, before shrugging.

"Sure," he replied, thinking _what have i got to loose?_ She smiled, and held up her basket.

"Just let me pay for these, and we can go." He nodded, and followed her to the check out, grinning slightly.

-- Two hours later --

"YES! I knew it was a boy!" Dean yelled, and Charissa punched him angrily in the gut, before waddling into the kitchen.

"It's rude to gloat!" she yelled over her shoulder, as Dean groaned and followed her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Five**

When Charissa finally gave birth, Dean, Sam and Bobby were on a hunt. She had, in the midst of her contractions, dragged herself to the Beau. She shoved the key in the ignition, grunting, and holding onto her stomach, as pain ripped through her lower abdomen. "DEAN!" she screamed, gripping the door of her car with a grip of steel. When the wave subsided, she turned the key, and despite her better judgement, she pulled out of the Salvage Yard, and sped down the highway towards the closest town.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" she panted, as another contraction hit her, and she grabbed the steering wheel, and dug down, to keep her eyes on the road. "Come on, baby, just stay still for a bit, please!"

She pulled into the small, rundown bar on the edge of town, and prayed to Castiel that there was some one there. She was sweating, and holding her lower stomach, as she dragged herself to the doorway. She flung it open, just as her waters broke. The owner of the bar, a big tattooed man, saw her, and dropped the glass he was wiping. "Please! Get.." she gritted her teeth, as another contraction tore through her, as if determined to destroy her. She wailed loudly, and grabbed her stomach. The bartender rushed to her side, and rubbed her back. "GET ME DEAN! I am going to TEAR HIS TESTES OFF!" she screamed, and the man just patted her back.

"It's all right, sweetheart, let it all out," he said, in a surprisingly soft voice, and she looked at him, pleading.

"Just get this little shit out of me, please!" she begged, and he shook his head.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but that baby is going to come in it's own due course. You need to relax, and sit down," the man soothed, and she nodded, panting. Sitting down in one of the old chairs, she looked at him, apologetically.

"Sorry about the puddle," she said, embarressed, and he just chuckled.

"Your not the first woman to give birth here, sweetie, about 20 years back, there was another woman, looked a bit like you as well," he said,and she giggled, before wincing as pain ripped through her. "I was only twenty at the time," he said, rubbing her back, and she nodded, grimacing at the pain.

"Hey, you know, I think the baby is coming... like no-OOOWWW!!" she finished of screaming, as her lower half contracted. Within seconds, the man had her on the floor, in the birthing postition. She closed her legs, in embarressment. He chuckled.

"Sweetie, I'm a trained midwife, you haven't got anything I haven't seen before," he said, and she looked at him, before sighing, then screaming in agony, her head rolling back.

"SHIT! SHIT!! SHIT!" she howled, as he lifted her skirt, and pulled down her panties. He looked at her for a moment.

"Yep, this baby is deffinatly coming. Your crowning, sweetie, I'm going to need you push soon," he said soothingly, and she banged her fists.

"NO! I WILL NOT GIVE BIRTH ON THE FLOOR OF A BAR!" she howled, and he looked at her.

"Yes, sweetie, you are."

And so, Samual Jonathan Winchester was born. On the floor of the rundown bar on the edge of town, while his father slaughtered a wendigo.

* * *

JUst so you NOT THE END!! There is going to be ONE more chapter. And then its the end!


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